


A God to a Deity, Turned Human

by adrift_me



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Human!Outsider, M/M, Outsider!Corvo, Pre-Relationship, Romance, dh1, god!Outsider, mild DOTO-spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 17:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14836205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrift_me/pseuds/adrift_me
Summary: How many futures and pasts and presents does the Outsider see? The god barely knows himself, watching it all move and blind him for millennia. But there are some possibilities that draw his attention.Especially one, where his eyes are not black. But Corvo's are.





	A God to a Deity, Turned Human

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen outsider!Corvo arts going around and got really inspired to try and write a ficlet where Corvo and the Outsider swap roles. Hope you enjoy my take on it!
> 
> [Come chat with me on tumblr :)](https://a-driftamongopenstars.tumblr.com/ask)

How much can a world alter, should you remove or change a minor detail? The Outsider has seen them all, from the crushing tides that wipe away cities to titles passed from one to another in a most unexpected fashion. Even his own title, given away differently and in a different lifetime. He closes his eyes and watches, where he is the Outsider no more.

Or rather, has never been.

...He can’t remember a summer so cool aired as this one. He could swear even his hair grow stiffer in the icy winds, coming from the ocean. The mistress who feeds him soup every day complains too when he visits her, saying he looks paler than ever and that he should get himself a pair of gloves to keep his hands warm. Of course, she herself has no gloves to give. But Levi (for such is his name, he knows) is glad to be fed. And if soup comes with a sprinkle of reprimand, he can handle it.

When scarce meal is eaten, he returns to wander the darker alleys of the ever unforgiving city. He knows it perfectly, every brick and every roof shingle, every turn he shouldn’t take but takes anyway. Luck has failed him only in one matter - having a family or at least someone to rely on. Otherwise, it feels as if the Outsider himself is watching him, keeping his feet safe from the blazing dangers of streets.

Not that anyone has ever received the elusive god’s blessing. Who is there to know for certain that the god even exists beyond the tales of travelers and mad worshippers who scatter rat bones as an offering and perform rituals of different nature where one cannot see?

Levi himself has never encountered the god’s presence, but oh so often came across the places where he could be. Countless shrines hide all over the city, down in the sewers and up in the decorated halls, Levi is certain. Draped with purples and blues, put up as a spiky wooden altar, these places of worship attract all kinds of people. Those who know no hardships and those who are too tired and hungry to think about them. The spoilt and the forgotten. Greedy and those in need. And sometimes there are people who care little for the god whose existence is a mystery.

Levi proudly counts himself among such people.

When he comes to a shrine, hidden inside an old attic, long forgotten, the main building looming over the edge of Wrenhaven, he curls up against the holy place and closes his eyes for a moment.

A moment that turns into a moment longer.

And when Levi wakes up, it’s dark. But the darkness is unnatural, as if draining the colour from the world. It sends a surge of panic down the young man’s body, his throat burning in terror. But as soon as he gets up, all his being focuses on another…

Being.

“Hello,” the man says, and Levi knows for certain that gods do exist. At least, this one, his eyes pitch black, his dark hair silken, ruffled. His lips are curled up in the smallest of smiles which speaks of curiosity rather than hostility. And he looks as if he is expecting something.

“I have nothing to give,” Levi retorts immediately, shrugging. The air buzzes and moves all around him, as if the world itself became much more physical and all laws of existence have jumbled up. The Outsider, who stands before Levi, smiles. It’s a proper smile, not warm or kind, but not angry either. He looks mischievous, but through that facade Levi can see a great sadness of an ancient being.

“I require nothing. I was merely curious to see a man who rests at my shrines so often and yet has not asked for any consolation or help. You frequent my altars more than my worshippers, but you do not worship, you seek shelter and safety. Strange, for safety my shrines cannot offer. What do I make of you?”

The Outsider’s voice is low and devouring, and Levi loses awareness for a moment, gulping mild panic down his dry throat. The Outsider walks, the tiniest step to the side, and then disappears. Levi looks around to the sound of soft whisper and finds the god standing beside him.

He finds it more annoying than impressive. The Outsider’s brows arch a little, and Levi flushes, realising that gods always hear people, but by choice. It seems the Outsider is pointedly deaf to prayers and extremely drawn to hidden thoughts.

“Most immediately ask how I did it and if they could learn the same trick. In millennia people’s mind changes only barely, and desires remain. The same pattern repeats itself over and over again, and I can only wait until something unusual breaks the circle. All those times I’ve seen you, you do not look special to the world. But your existence fascinates me. It has no purpose.”

Levi presses his lips, his heart stinging with such an insult. He knows it is the truth, he is but a pointless creature in the cruel world of men where no one has need for him. But living his life is so much easier without a reminder of its pointlessness. Living a lie is easier. And sometimes he can almost convince himself that his life is an adventure, not a goal, even if its boundary lies at the dead ends of the dark alleys.

“Stuck in a maze of a city, mired in its chaos, you push at the walls that have no exit. But all you need is a push to jump  _ over _ them.”

Levi shakes his head, rolls his eyes. The god approaches him ever so close, and staring him in the face makes Levi feel defiant. What light from the shrine manages to break through the curtain of blackness, lights up the Outsider’s face. A face of an aged man, handsome, impressive, terrifying a little. One must never look him in the eyes for the fear of getting trapped in their blackness. But Levi, a fool, looks, grappled on the stare, returned eagerly.

And he misses the moment  _ it _ happens, when something sears his neck, sharp as a dagger, painful enough to blind him. Or at least, black out anything that isn’t the Outsider.

“My gift to you, Levi, and it is yours to use. It is high time your pointless wandering found a guide to lead you through thorns and murky waters.”

When it is over, the world is itself again and the Outsider is gone. But Levi cannot forget that face, so gentle in that moment, so handsome, so otherworldly. And a hand on his neck, cool and large. The only kind touch Levi has ever experienced.

He brushes his neck and feels odd smoothness there. What happened to his skin, is it a newly inflicted and healed wound or something else entirely, he doesn’t know until the moment he runs down to the river, cautiously avoiding the patrols, and stares at his reflection in the muddy water. Staring back is his own face, young but hardened by a life of deprivation. And on his neck - a symbol made of an arrow and several small dots, a circle. The image of it ripples as a hagfish passes by underneath the water veneer, making Levi step back thoughtfully.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” a voice calls for him and Levi turns around, facing a guard who squints at him in the sun. There is but one thought in his mind, run, and he doesn’t know why or what he is running from.

Losing no time, the young man sprints for the stairs, runs to the shouts of the guard away and away, until he sees a dead end, or rather a wall so high, he would never cross it, he would never cross it…

His body seizes, the world pauses - and then he is over the wall and sprinting down a square with people stepping aside.

It  _ was _ a dead end. But then he leapt, and the world itself bent to his will.

...The Outsider opens his eyes. His face, so young, is framed by the Void’s darkness again and the strands of a memory that never came to be and yet has always existed lets go of him. He smiles tenderly, thinking of Corvo’s face. And feels Corvo’s presence by one of his shrines, he needs only reach out and tear the Void to slip into the waken world, where Corvo sleeps, slumped against the shrine, his mask resting aside. Serene, in safety of the shrine.

“ _...safety it cannot offer. _ ”

The Outsider flinches.

Sometimes he wonders if being with Corvo turns him into that homeless young man, seeking refuge with the only person who has seen him for more than a pointless wanderer, who needs a god’s power to live.

Deep inside the Outsider knows that of all the possible futures, he might yet become a homeless young man again, sheltered by Corvo’s presence. Only the path to that future is hard and strange, and he doesn’t have power enough to take that leap. Not alone, at least.


End file.
